


Again and again and again and again

by thefuckistevvs



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Isolation, Junkenstein AU, M/M, Mental Illness, This is actually a really sad fic soooo, You've been warned, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 23:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12641283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefuckistevvs/pseuds/thefuckistevvs
Summary: Something no one ever told Jamison was that sometimes things should be kept dead.





	Again and again and again and again

**Author's Note:**

> _She had come to him like an angel, like a goddess. Promising Jamison everything he wanted._
> 
> Hello!! This is a Birthday Fic for [Fin!](https://twitter.com/fg083)  
> Happy birthday (a couple of days late oops)! They requested a story where "Junkenstein and Mako met, Mako then died and Frankenhog was made out of him". There are a couple of fics with that HQ and honestly i was so aaaall over it. Thank u for the request lakjsdfosjalk gave me an excuse to write it!!!!
> 
> Also this is a very very sad fic. I cried like, 3 times while writing it, haha. I hope you guys like it even tho its like... yeah sad.
> 
> Shotout to my gf Trish who was the beta reader for this!
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope y'all like it!!!

The smell of coffee lingered in the air. The coffee mug was dirty, the edges smudged with drool from too many drinks. It left a dark wet ring on the table as Jamison grabbed it, lifting it lazily to his lips and drinking the lukewarm coffee inside of it.

It was slightly bitter. Jamison licked his lips as some coffee slipped over them and onto his chin. He placed the coffee cup back and cleaned his chin with his free hand, the other one screwing the last components of his latest creation together. 

_This one for sure_ , he thought to himself as he adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose. He was nearsighted, and he had been working for so long he was on the verge of collapsing.

But not yet. This one for sure; this would be the one automaton that would get him the respect he deserved.

Jamison Junkenstein was not a popular individual, to put it kindly. He lived on the outskirts of the village, away from everyone. The townspeople labeled him a freak, for many reasons. Eccentric, physically strange (too tall, too skinny, missing pieces and bits of himself and replaced it with prosthetics he created himself), and just _different_. 

A genius, he liked to call himself, but what was the point when no one believed him? A genius, treated like he was a crazy freak because he liked to hang out with machines more than people.

Even if he was employed by Lord Reinhardt Wilhelm, everybody still treated him like trash. He was the “Royal Inventor,” whatever the hell that meant.

When Jamison had been recruited by Lord Reinhardt, he was promised that his work would be used for the benefit of mankind, that his creations would help people and would let them live easier and happier.

Oh, if only. 

Jamison soon realized that he was just a glorified toymaker. Nothing he ever made pleased the Lord, and he would make ridiculous requests until Jamison’s work was watered down to useless machines. He was treated like a child, his creations shunned and shoved aside as dumb toys and stupid creations. 

Jamison bit his lip. Not this time. Tomorrow, tomorrow he would show Lord Reinhardt what he was capable of creating, what he coul build with his own hands.

A medical bot. One that would make doctors’ lives easier, that was delicate enough to handle procedures and even able operate on humans. Lord Reinhardt would recognize his genius after so long and he would no longer be mocked.

He smiled as he continued to work. Tomorrow, for sure, it would be a new day.

 

\---

 

Jamison tugged the neck of his black turtleneck as he entered the castle, his automaton following closely behind. People stared at him, but that was normal at this point. The robot behind him floated slightly above the ground.

His audience with Lord Reinhardt was soon and Jamison had fully prepared himself for it. He cleaned up and used his clean and nice white robe, a nice black turtleneck under it. 

The peg leg still caught everybody’s attention, but he hadn’t been able to replace it with a proper prosthetic. It would be easier if he hadn’t been missing his knee, but such was life. Apart from his prosthetics, he looked pretty good if he had to say so himself.

He reached the door of the castle and the guards stared at him. Jamison didn’t recognize them, so he supposed they were new recruits.

“State your business,” one of them barked. 

“I am Jamison Junkenstein, the Royal Inventor. I have an audience with Lord Wilhelm.”

That same guard stared at him and at the automaton following behind. “What’s that thing?”

“I intend to present my creation to Lord Wilhelm.” He was starting to get annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood for arguing with new guards. “May I pass? I will be runnin’ late to meet with tha’ lord.”

They cocked their heads at Jamison’s accent, and the guard on the right who was speaking went to examine his automaton. The other stayed in place and Jamison got a chance to look at him.

He was tall, taller than Jamison himself. That was already an extreme oddity; the only person Jamison had ever met that was taller than him was Lord Reinhardt himself. This guard didn’t seem taller than the Lord himself, but he was…big. 

While Lord Reinhardt was big due to his muscles, the guard seemed to be big in width. He was fat, but even with all that armor Jamison could tell that he was extremely fit. He had round features and stared down at Jamison with slight confusion. He didn’t seem to be from the area, his features different, rounder. His hair was tied in a ponytail, the sides of shaved off. His hair was pitch black and looked silky atop his brown skin.

By the way he stared at Jamison with more confusion and curiosity than outright contempt, the doctor could tell that he wasn’t from the area.

“I have no idea what this thing is,” the guard close to him said as he tried to make sense of the automaton. Jamison bit his lip, turning to face him. 

“I intend to present this to the Lord. I am the Royal Inventor- what else do ya want?”

“What if you use this to hurt someone?”

Jamison took a deep, exasperated sigh. God, he hated dealing with guards. 

“Hey, you.” He pointed at the other guard who was still standing in place. “Go follow this guy, right? Don’t let him blow up anything.”

 _As if,_ Jamison thought, rolling his eyes. The guard shrugged, opening the door behind him so Jamison could finally get inside the castle.

It was massive, the inside lined with beautiful architecture. Whenever he walked through those halls, he felt like a child lost in a dream. He sighed, making his way towards the throne room.  
The guard followed him closely and even called out for him.

“Do you know the way?” His voice was deep, baritone. It made shivers go down his spine, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I’ve been ‘ere before, thank ya.”

They didn’t say anything else as he made his way to the throne room. The guard stayed behind as Jamison slipped in. He paid no attention to it; the only thing on his mind was his audience with Lord Reinhardt.

The Lord had just gotten there, it seemed, just sitting down and sighing as he did so. He was old, but even if he was about sixty years old he still had the vitality of a young man. His hair was white, his face scarred. He stared down at Jamison and crossed his hands across his chest, sitting on his throne. 

“Well, Junkenstein? I hope that you bring something of interest to me.”

“W-well, my Lord, I do hope you find my new creation of use.” He smiled as the Lord simply leaned on the arm of his chair and watched lazily. “Ya gave me the opportunity to create somethin’ to help people, and I believe-”

“Get to the point, Doctor.”

Slightly shocked, Jamison nodded and stepped aside to show his new automaton.   
It had a simple shape, slightly humanoid and comforting. It had three sets of arms, in each hand a different tool. A little heart was drawn on the center of it, along with two dot eyes on its round head. 

“Lord, this is a medi-bot. This automaton will help doctors and nurses with their procedures; they have medical tools at their disposal. They are so delicate and precise, they can even operate in an actual human!” He beamed, showing his creation with pride. A wide smile was plastered on his face. “With this, doctors can have more help and won’t be so tired all tha’ time! We can make great medical advances with this!”

Lord Reinhardt stared at it without the excitement Jamison shared. He pointed a big finger at it and scowled. “This… machine is supposed to operate on _people_?”

“They are very delicate and precise, my Lord. It is another pair of hands-”

“But it has no heart. How am I supposed to trust that thing to be my doctor when it can’t even think like a person?”

Jamison felt his heart sink to his stomach. “My Lord, this won’t replace human doctors. It-it is just an assistant, per se. It is to reduce mistakes made by exhaustion and-”

“How am I supposed to let this machine touch me? I wouldn’t trust anything built by you to actually heal me.”

Jamison bit his lip. “Sir, with all due respect, this can be a great advancement. We-we can bring better healthcare to those that need it with this tool. It’s-it’s for people, it’s to make their lives easier and-”

“It’s morbid.” Lord Reinhardt sat straight, scowling at Jamison’s creation. “I will not allow it. It is unnatural. Metal and wires cannot know how to treat a human, never will.”

“Oh.”

“I would have thought that you would have realized that this is a morbid thing while you were building it. This thing… it has no place in here.”

Jamison bit his lip. Normally, he would stay quiet, but this time he had the heart to actually stand up for himself and say something about it. He had had enough.

“With all due respect, Lord, we cannot simply shun technological advances because, ah, they’re ‘unnatural’, don’t you, ah, think we should… we should try to give more room for these kind of machines?”

Lord Reinhard leaned over and stared down at Jamison, blue eyes focusing on him like he was prey.

“Listen to me very well, Jamison Junkenstein. I call the shots here, and that thing…it is not normal. Machines cannot perform what humans do. They will not replace us, ever. I will not allow it. And I will not let you judge my decisions.” Jamison felt his teeth clench, fingers digging into the meat of his palm. “It appears that my suspicions were right; you are a better toy maker than an inventor.”

Reinhardt stood, making a demeaning motion with his hand. “Leave. Whenever I need a toy or trinket from you, I will call you. Goodbye.”

“...I understand, My Lord.” Jamison’s voice broke as Lord Reinhardt left. He was ushered out of the room, the automaton following behind.

His body felt tense and Jamison didn’t look behind as he made his way out of the castle. His ears were ringing with rage and he was sure that if he opened his mouth he would just start cursing in the middle of the castle. He had to get out of that fucking place.

He made it outside and didn’t even bother to humor the guards that were trying to talk to him. Jamison continued to move forward towards the creek near the castle. His heart was almost beating out of his chest as he approached the water and started kicking rocks and grass. 

He was so mad he could start screaming, so he did. He yelled profanities at no one in particular, kicking and stomping, even pulling harshly at his hair. The anger was quickly replaced by something else, an empty feeling crawling up his stomach and throat and staying there. The anger made him stomp around while this sadness just brought him down. He sat on his ass, taking deep breaths as he attempted to not start sobbing.

It didn’t work. He started to openly cry just next to the creek, biting his lip as tears flowed freely from his eyes.

God, he had been so stupid thinking that Lord Reinhardt would actually like anything Jamison built. He felt so _insulted_ ; he attempted to help people and instead he was told off.   
He took his glasses off, cradling them with one hand while the other pressed against his forehead as he just cried like a child. He really wanted to help; he really did, but they weren’t letting him. They would never let him do anything but stupid toys for the Lord to amuse himself. He had been so stupid, thinking things would change. 

“Excuse me-”

Jamison jumped in place, startled. His face was red and full of tears as he put the glasses back on his face, embarrassment already present.

“What!” he yelled, wiping the tears and snot from his face as his eyes focused on his uninvited guest. “Who-”

It was the guard from before, the one that had followed him inside the castle. He didn’t have weapons but he still had his armor on. He was staring down at Jamison and the doctor felt even more embarrassed at his current state. 

“What do you want?!” he hissed, brushing the dirt off his pants, annoyed. 

“Are you okay? I heard noises, so I came to investigate.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he seethed, biting his lip. His day had already been shitty; he didn’t need a guard annoying him. “I’m just mindin’ me own business.”

The guard shifted and stared at Jamison’s automaton, which had followed him down to the creek. It floated peacefully and the guard couldn’t keep his eyes off it. 

“It’s stupid, it don’t matter no more,” Jamison hissed in regards to his robot, but the guard stared at it.

“It looks pretty impressive to me.”

Jamison was so taken aback that he blinked and shook his head slightly.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s impressive,” he said with a low, stoic voice, but he didn’t seem to be lying or mocking Jamison. He actually _believed_ it.

He couldn’t help but start crying again, pressing his hands against his face as he sobbed. The guard stared at him surprised, uncomfortable as Jamison cried.

“Uh…” he said awkwardly as he patted Jamison’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yes!” Jamison chuckled, once again cleaning the tears off his red face. “I’m sorry- I got- er, I got a bit overwhelmed.” He smiled more. The guard just seemed very confused at everything. 

“I, er- I was told it was creepy and unnatural.” He grimaced at the memory. “The Lord didn’t like it at all. All that work… for nothin’!”

“What is it supposed to do?”

Jamison was close to tears once again, but he managed to control it. He chuckled, his hands anxiously going through his hair.

“Just wonderin’ mate…ya aren’t from ‘ere, are ya?”

“No. I moved recently.”

Ah, so Jamison was right. This guy didn’t know the unspoken rule that everybody hated him and should avoid talking to him at all costs. 

“Ah…well, me name is Jamison Junkenstein. I am the, er, Royal Inventor. I build automatons like these and present ‘em to Lord Reinhardt, to see if they’re to his likin’. They normally are not, however…Oh! Where are me manners! What is yer name?”

“Mako. Mako Rutledge.”

What an interesting name. Jamison chuckled, making twitchy movements with his fingers. “Do ya… want me to tell ya what this does?”

Mako stared at the automaton and nodded. “My shift is over and I’ve never seen anything like this before. I would like that, Doctor Junkenstein.”

“Alright, Mister Rutledge.” Jamison chuckled, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. 

The sound of the creek was soothing, calming to the nerves. The wet stones shone under the sunlight, a few bugs flying around and adding to the background noise. The metal of the automaton reflected the light as Jamison gently touched it, fingers pointing at joints and explaining them to Mako, who listened intently. The woods around them were soothing as they were alone, Mako asking the occasional question and Jamison gingerly answering with a wide grin. It was different. It was something Jamison hadn’t experienced in years.

He enjoyed it.

\---

The sudden knock at the door woke him up from his slumber. Once again, Jamison had fallen asleep in his workshop on top of his desk. The knocking threw him off his chair and he fell clumsily on the ground. 

“Wha-” The knocking continued. There was dried drool on his chin. “Fuck-”

He stood up, body aching from the fall and from sleeping on his desk all night. The doctor stretched, the bones of his back popping and cracking. He peeked through the window and saw it was early morning. Fantastic. 

The knocking continued. Jamison sighed as he figured that it was some messenger from the Lord. No one else ever bothered to visit him, after all.

It had already been about a month since he had an audience with Lord Reinhardt. It had been a bad one and, as soon as he got home, he had deactivated his automaton. He didn’t completely scrap it, and would go back to work on it; he wanted to make something good out of it, Lord Reinhardt be damned. What did the idiot know anyways?

“I’m comin’!” he yelled out as he waddled out of the room and into the doorway. He yawned, wondering what the Lord wanted this time. 

“What is-”

Jamison’s eyes widened as he saw who was standing in front of the door. The guard from before, Mako, was on his doorstep, clad in armor and waiting for Jamison. Suddenly, the doctor felt very aware of himself and the fact that his hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkled and gross, and he looked like a total disaster.

“Uh,” he hid behind the door like Mako hadn’t seen how gross he looked already. “G-good mornin?”

“Good morning,” Mako greeted him. “I came here to uh, deliver a message.”

“Thought ya were a door guard” Jamison smiled nervously, hoping his face wasn’t as red as he thought it was going to be.

Mako shrugged. “I’m the new one. They send me to do things they don’t want to do.”

Jamison gave a nervous chuckle. He had greatly enjoyed the last time they talked at the creek, but he hadn’t really spoken to the man after that; it wasn’t like Jamison really left his house.   
Man, he had forgotten how attractive the man was. He blinked as he tried to get that thought out of his head. The last thing he needed was to get a stiffy in his damn doorway.

“Is somethin’ wrong? Does tha’ Lord want to talk to me?”

Mako nodded as if he just remembered that he was there to deliver a message. He fished through his pockets to get a paper scroll out of them. He silently handed it to Jamison, who immediately grabbed it and unrolled it right there and then.

Instructions were scribbled on it. Lord Reinhardt’s nieces and nephews would be coming soon, and he wanted Jamison to make some toys for them. Some useless trinkets he could amuse his relatives with.

He frowned and harshly rolled the scroll, shoving it into the pocket of his pants and sighing annoyedly.

“Something wrong?” Mako asked. Jamison blinked and rubbed his forehead, annoyed. 

“He wants me to make toys for his family.” He continued to rub his face with both hands. “Useless puppets.”

“It should be easy for you to make?”

“Yeah, it is! I can do that easy, no big deal, but it’s way too _easy_. It ain’t what I was hired for! I was hired to build things that actually matter, you know?”

Jamison chuckled, rubbing his nape and giggling. “Eh, ya don’t care.”

“Actually,” Jamison eyes went wide in surprise, Mako words already getting to him. “I think it is very interesting. What you do.”

“You… do?” Surprised, he chuckled awkwardly. His cheeks were hot and he had a funny feeling in his stomach. “Would ya…want to, uh, see me other works?”

“I’m sorry, but I must go back to the castle.” Oh. Okay. Jamison felt his stomach go cold with rejection. “But, actually, that would be nice.”

“Oh, well then, er…” Jamison was so flustered he didn’t even know what to say. How should he react? He had never been in that situation before. Oh God Mako was staring at him. “S-stop by whenever ya want! I’ll be here all day, all week! I mean, I live here, haha!”

His name was Jamison Junkenstein and he was a human disaster. But even so, Mako just gave a soft smile and nodded.

“See you later, then.” He waved and then started to walk away. Jamison stared at him for a while before closing the door, then slid off it and onto the floor, dazed by what had just happened.

Did he just _socialize_? With a really sexy guy?

He covered his face with his palms and took a deep breath. He wanted to absolutely die but also he couldn’t wait. It was a weird feeling, wanting to just straight-out disappear from the face of the earth, but he also couldn’t really wait for Mako’s return. It was euphoric anxiety and he couldn’t handle it.

God, what a day. 

\---

He almost fell as he ran around the place, things in his hands as he dumped them where they actually should have been. He didn’t know when Mako was going to arrive at his house or what day, but his house was a mess. It gave him an excuse to finally clean up.

His house was a mess, full of dust, clothes, trash and the like. It made him feel slightly ashamed of how much garbage was lying out. 

It took him hours before his home was decent. He cleaned, mopped, dusted, everything so the place didn’t look so abandoned. He also realized he really hated cleaning. Tired, Jamison just plopped on the couch in the living room. Cleaning sucked, but sometimes it was good, he figured.

...No, it sucked. He had the excuse that he was a genius and that was his process, but from what he knew, people generally didn’t think that was true. Oh, whatever. 

It was already late when he finished and he wondered if Mako was actually going to make it after all. Maybe it was just a lie. Maybe he would forget or hang out with friends or something like that. Something better to do than hang out with him looking at his dumb robots. The young doctor rubbed his face tiredly. Anxiety ate away at him, filling his belly and his throat. It was annoying.

So he did what he always did when he got upset: he stood up and went to his workshop.

The scroll that had been delivered to him was pinned to the wall above his drawing station. He sat down, annoyed that he had to make literal toys for dumb children rather than actually do something of use. 

His desk was neatly organized from his little cleaning session. It was a big, metallic desk with inks and pencils and the like. Blank paper sheets were neatly stacked in one corner, along with his utensils. His desk was clean now, pristine. It looked kind of nice, but it lacked… something. Like it was only for show rather than for work. Oh, well, he would work on it now.

Jamison sat down and retrieved one of the blank sheets, grabbing a pencil as he started to sketch. He tapped his foot against the floor, pushing his glasses up to his nose as he leaned into the paper and started to scribble down his ideas. Even if he wasn’t exactly content withthe fact he was designing literal toys, it was still therapeutic to just sit down and scribble. The sound his pencil made as he sketched on the paper was music to his ears, his tongue poking out as he designed the little things.

When he finished with that sheet, he grabbed tape and glued it to the wall. Almost mechanically, he grabbed another piece of paper and scribbled on it as well. His eyes were focused on the papers as he sketched and sketched; every time he finished with one sheet, he would paste it to the wall and continue, so on and so forth. He didn’t focus on anything else, completely immersed in his work as the day passed. 

He let out a little surprised gasp as he heard knocking at his door. He stood up, hands smudged with charcoal and ink and pieces of it sticking to his clothes. So much for looking clean. 

“Ah- comin’!” he yelled out, quickly making his way to the doorway. His heart beat with anticipation when he realized that it was most likely going to be Mako. 

Oh fuck, it was Mako wasn’t it? Jamison stopped in front of the door, sweat rolling down his face. This was the first time he had had an actual visitor at his house that willingly wanted to be there. He should have made something to eat, right? Or he should have done something else maybe. He wasn’t good with hospitality. What was he going to do? He didn’t want to fuck it up. He felt like a complete mess. He was on the verge of having a panic attack when he heard another knock.

He figured the first step to being a good host was actually opening the door.

Jamison gulped as he opened the door. The anxiety all melted away when he saw Mako standing in front of his doorway. He wasn’t wearing his armor, instead sporting normal clothes. He could now truly appreciate just how _big_ the man was, muscular and with a big belly as well. He looked like a brick house, but his face seemed gentle and calm. 

“Oh! Good evenin’!” He smiled wide. “Ya made it!”

“Yes, it isn’t an inconvenience is it?”

“Oh no, not at all!” He opened the door wide, stepping aside. “Come on in!”

Mako stepped inside and Jamison chuckled nervously. “Sorry for tha’ mess; I didn’t have time to clean!” An obvious lie, but that was one of the things people were supposed to say, no?

“It’s a big house. Big.”

“Yeah; belonged to me parents. Passed down to me, haha! Now I live alone ‘ere.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Jamison was confused for a moment until he realized he indirectly mentioned that his parents were dead. “Ah, it’s-it’s okay. Happened a while ago, no biggie!”

That probably sounded really awkward too, but Jamison already said it so it was done. All those books he had read and none of them actually taught him how to interact with actual people. “Would you, ah, like some… tea? Coffee? Uh, water?”

“What kind of teas do you have?”

“Oh, I got…” He went over to the cupboard, opening them and looking at the contents. The teas were in small individual jars with labels on the front. “White, green, oolong, black… would have Pu-erh but I ran out, haven’t gotten much…Erm, yellow tea. Ya like fruity tea? I got cinnamon, apple, cinnamon apple, red fruits, chamomile, mint…”

He was talking a lot, wasn’t he? He suddenly felt embarrassed, but Mako simply stared at all the jars he had of different types of tea, slightly in awe. “You really like tea, don’t you?”

“I, er-” Was he mocking him? Jamison couldn’t tell. 

“I have only had chamomile tea. I didn’t know there were so many kinds,” he said with a chuckle, and Jamison felt something in his chest. “I don’t know, whichever you prefer.”

“Oh! W-well, my favorite is apple cinnamon. Can put some milk in it but, eh…I ran out. Gotta remember to stock up on groceries, hah. But okay!”

He retrieved the jar with the tea and placed it on the counter. He retrieved his teapot, filling it with water and putting it over the fire so it started to boil while he retrieved the cups. He started to make conversation as he got things prepared for the tea. 

“Ya new here, right? Ya don’t really look like you’re from around ‘ere, haha.” Jamison meant that to mean that he was the first person to not harass Jamison on sight, but he suddenly realized that could have come out as prejudiced. Oops. “I mean-I haven’t really seen ya around.”

“I moved about a month ago. It seems like a nice place,” Mako said as he looked at Jamison’s furniture, transfixed on it. His father was a fan of antiques and Jamison couldn’t bring himself to throw them away. They were part of the house, but he had gotten so used to them that he didn’t realize it might not be that normal. “Like it so far.”

“It is really out there, ain’t it? Really hidden from everybody else. But maybe that’s good!” The water was started to boil, and Jamison grabbed another teapot, a crystal one. He poured the tea leaves into it and then the boiling water for the mix to steep. “Away from all the other nonsense.”

“This place is truly quiet. I used to live in a more lively place.”

“Ya liked it? What brings ya to this remote place, ah?”

“These antiques are beautiful.” 

It was very obvious that Mako had changed the topic and, while Jamison just wanted to press him on and learn why he didn’t want to talk about it, he also knew that wasn’t a good thing to do, so his nosey self would have to endure it. 

“They didn’t have automatons where ya lived?” He grabbed the two cups of tea, handing one to Mako with his flesh hand. His metallic one handled his own, not feeling the heat. Mako took it and thanked Jamison, his massive hands making the cup look minuscule. 

“No, I don’t think so. At least not like the one i saw. You have more like that?”

“Oh! Yeah, come ‘ere,” Jamison made his way towards his workshop, Mako on tow. “Me official title is ‘Royal Inventor’, but I don’t really invent much stuff. I mean, I do! But the Lord… it isn’t of his likin’, unfortunately. But, I make automatons. Basically robots. Artificial men, so to speak, haha.”

His workshop was cleaner than usual, but there were still traces of Jamison’s presence all over it. Works in progress, abandoned projects, blueprints taped to the walls as well as many materials and tools that were neatly put in their respective places. His desk was messier than everything else, but he had just worked on it. 

The automatons that he had built before but weren’t of Lord Reinhardt’s liking were all in one corner, organized. Mako looked in awe at every single corner of room. His eyes wandered from one side to another, fixating on every little thing.

“This is where you work?” he mumbled, and Jamison got flustered.

“Ah, yeah. This is uh, where I work.” He pointed at the corner with his finished, abandoned models. “Those are my previous works. The Lord didn’t like any of ‘em, though. Shame, hehe.”

“What do they do?”

“Oh, well-” He went over quickly, putting his cup of tea on a nearby table. “Well, this one is the one ya saw the other day, haha. It was supposed to help doctors and nurses and the like.” He immediately moved to another one of the robots, grabbing it and showing it off. This one was bulkier, with sturdy arms that held a duster and dustpan. “This one was supposed to help clean around the house but I never finished it, heh. This one...”

They spent hours like that, Jamison showing his work to Mako and pointing out the characteristics of each one, going into detail about what they did and how they were supposed to do it.

Mako would ask the occasional questions, all related to the robots. Jamison beamed and excitedly answered everything like a child on Christmas.  
Soon enough it was pretty late, and it was time for Mako to leave. Jamison accompanied him to the door as they continued to talk. As Mako stepped outside, he looked down at Jamison and smiled softly. Jamison couldn’t help but offer an earnest smile back.

“That was fun,” Mako said, face brightening. “It was really fun, and interesting. I enjoyed it.”

“I really enjoyed it too!” Inside voice, Jamison. “It was, it was nice!”

“Maybe we can do it again. Meet up.”

Jamison heart started to beat so hard he was sure it was going to burst out of his chest. “Yes! I would like that. That would be very nice.”

“I will be around. Goodnight, Jamison.”

“Ah; call me Jamie.”

Mako smiled wide. “Goodnight, Jamie.”

“G’night, Mako! Have a good one!”

Mako nodded and left. Jamison closed the door silently after the knight left and he just wanted to jump around in joy, so obviously he did so. He didn’t shout and yell, though; he knew Mako could still hear him. He needed to keep just a little bit of dignity. 

He went back to his workshop, plopping down on his work table as he started to scribble his next creations. They were toys, but he was in such a good mood he did not care he was making presents for a bunch of red-nosed spoiled kids. His attitude had changed so much that he was now a new man. 

He smiled, waiting for things to come.

\---

The knocking on the door was familiar at this point. Jamison knew who it was going to be, but even if he was delighted every time he saw Mako, he was more than annoyed now.  
Mako would deliver him notes and scrolls that he was instructed to give, all nitpicking and notes from Lord Reinhardt.

Things his nephews liked, what they should be, what they should do, what color they should be, things that were slowly driving Jamison mad. This was the third message he had gotten this week and he was already starting to get angry.

He opened the door, but his annoyance disappeared when he saw Mako again. He was like a tranquilizer to him; whenever he got to see Mako, it was like all his anxieties and worries were sucked away and replaced by peace.

The knight looked different today, however; he was always wearing his knight armor but this time he hadn’t donned it, instead waring normal clothes. 

“Mako, good mornin’!” he greeted as always, sticking out his hand, Mako took it and they shook. “Are there any more, er, _requests_ from the Lord?”

“Actually, it is my day off. Are you too busy?”

“Uhm, just the normal amount of busy I always am, aha!” he giggled loudly. “Why, is there a problem?”

“I was wondering if,” Mako smiled softly, looking at the ground and then lifting his gaze once more to lock eyes with Jamison. “I was wondering if you wanted to go have some breakfast?”

Jamison felt like his heart just exploded. He almost keeled over, but remained standing steady at the door frame. 

“I-I would really love that! But… I ain’t too sure. I mean,” He looked over his shoulder, his workshop in mind. He still needed to add those ridiculous requests Lord Reinhardt gave him. “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“You have been working nonstop on this,” His voice was low and soft. “Why not take a break?”

Jamison looked behind him once again and thought about it. Well, why not? Mako was right, he had been working pretty much every day from morning to night. He should take one day to himself, even more if that day was with Mako.

“You know what? You’re right!” He beamed. “Ya want to have breakfast? I uh… I don’t think I got eggs. Or bread. Or… much food? I got a bunch of tea, though I can-”

“Do you ever even eat?” Mako said, slightly incredulous. “It seems you never have actual food in your house.”

“I do eat! Sometimes.” He chuckled nervously. 

“I was thinking of going somewhere nice in town.”

Jamison flinched at the idea of actually going into town. He only went there when he really needed to; he had never actually gone there just for the sake of enjoying himself. It was something he just never tried or cared to do. 

“Oh, I don’t-” 

“The weather is beautiful, I thought it would be a good idea.” Mako scratched his chin. “But if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“No, no! I mean- I was just… don’t mind me, haha!” Hell, he hated going out, but if Mako wanted to go out then he was going to swallow his insecurities and go out. “Let me just-”

He was wearing his lab coat, so he just took it off and threw it onto the sofa in his living room. He looked pretty decent, all things considered. He grabbed some money and shoved it into his pocket, what he thought would be necessary, and then stepped out of his house, closing the door behind him. “Come on, let’s go!”

Mako smiled and they started to walk towards the town. His worries had been sucked out of him with Mako at his side. Jamison felt at ease with the man. He had been such a positive presence ever since they met and Jamison had forgotten you could be this happy.

“There is this nice place I sometimes go to. They have really nice cakes and pastries.”

“Ya like that kinda stuff? Cakes and desserts?” Jamison was genuinely curious. Mako was a big, intimidating man, and he looked like he could kill someone with a twist of his fingers. He did not peg him for a man that liked that kind of things.

“I… they’re nice.”

“No, I mean- I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I was curious! Ya don’t look like someone that eats pastries.”

“What kind of things do you think I eat?”

Jamison looked up and down at him. “Eggs and bacon and a lot of meat.”

Mako laughed loudly, chest rising up and down. Jamison had never heard him laugh that hard and loudly and it brought a smile to his own lips. 

“I mean, you’re just big. You probably eat an entire cow for breakfast!”

“I am big. I do enjoy sweet things, however.”

“I’m not judgin’! I like sweet things meself. I ain’t good at actually makin’ them, however!”

They continued their small talk until they reached the town. Jamison felt so comfortable that he didn’t actually bother to check everybody’s reaction to him just walking around. Mako didn’t seem to check either as they approached the place Mako had told him about. 

It was a cute café with tables inside and outside along the road. They sat outside and it made Jamison slightly uncomfortable, but Mako’s presence was enough to put him at ease. The little table was decorated with a vase that had flowers in it; very picturesque. 

The waitress came over and smiled at Mako, but said smile vanished as she saw Jamison. She didn’t scowl, but Jamison could tell that she was trying not to, the corner of her lips twitching. 

Mako ordered a nice slice of cake along with some coffee. Jamison ordered a slice of cheesecake with some coffee as well. When the waitress brought them their orders, she put milk and sugar on the table to prepare the coffee with. While Jamison liked sweet things, he preferred to have his coffee black, but he paid attention to how Mako prepared his. He added a lot of sugar cubes along with milk. In the end, the coffee became a caramel color. It looked sweet and delicious. 

“How are the Lord’s projects going?”

“Well, ya know- he keeps giving me weird requests, ha! But I am pushing forward like always.” He smiled. “But I always talk about meself; what about ye?”

“I prefer when people do the talking,” Mako said as he placed a bit of his chocolate cake in his mouth. The spoon was so little in his big hands that it was endearing. It made Jamison smile; it was too adorable. 

“Where did you learn to make robots? Did you learn yourself?”

“Oh, well. Me dad also liked to make machines, but none were this complex, ya know. I guess I got it from ‘im.” He ate a piece of the cheesecake, and it was delicious. “Taught meself when he passed. Just wanted to make robots that helped people, ya know?”

“Like the medical one?”

“Well, what a shitshow that was. The Lord is probably right; I don’t think anyone is going to want to use that thing when there are humans around!” He giggled. “I wanted to help people and make it easier for doctors and nurses, but I guess people are put-off by the idea of robots makin’ them healthy, ya know?” 

He shrugged, taking a drink from his black coffee. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Scrapped that. It isn’t worth it-”

“I don’t think that’s true. It’s- it’s nice. You want to help people. You have great intentions and I think it’s amazing. Not many people want to do something to help others.” Mako looked at his cup of coffee. “I think that’s… admirable. I’m sorry people don’t think so, but I think this can be revolutionary.”

Jamison was at a loss for words. Mako met his gaze and he could see the man’s grey eyes. He felt his cheeks flush and Jamison broke contact; it felt just too intimate to even look at him in the eyes. 

“You’re, ah, you’re too kind to me, haha.” He covered his mouth with his organic hand. “Ya are, like, the first one to say that…!”

“That can’t be true. I’m sure people here think your creations are good.”

He felt embarrassed and slightly ashamed now, barrels of emotions just swimming in his belly. “People… people don’t really like the things I make. They’re a bit off-put by ‘em, by the machines. Say that they’re weird and unnatural.” He didn’t look at Mako, simply staring down at his meal. “It doesn’t help I don’t exactly look like a normal bloke! I am broken all over.” He waved dramatically with his metallic hand as if to emphasize the point. 

“Jamie, that’s stupid. Why wouldn’t people like them? I think they’re amazing. When I saw your medical bot I was astonished by it.”

“Ya are legitimately tha’ first person that enjoys my things! I never had someone tell me they thought they were good, haha. Just scraps…” 

“They are ridiculous. I know that if they were to know you like I do, they would think you‘re a good person.”

Jamison could have died right there. Face all red and hot, he bit his lip as he pushed his glasses up his nose, smiling silly and dazed. 

“Ya are too nice to me! I don’t deserve it.”

“You surely do.”

Jamison looked at him from across the table. Mako was staring at him and, while Jamison hated things like that, felt too vulnerable, when Mako did it it felt good and natural. He felt safe as he stared at those eyes. His hands were on the table, and Mako’s huge hands slowly crept over to his, big fingers brushing against Jamison’s flesh ones. He felt his heart in his throat and licked his lips as Mako continued making eye contact with him. The man smiled, and Jamison smiled back as their fingers intertwined. 

“Mako-”

Something hot and scalding was dropped onto his lap. It was boiling coffee and it burned a lot; not only that, but other things were dropped onto his legs and torso, cakes and food. Jamison hissed, letting go of Mako and standing up as he felt the wet heat all over him. His peg leg got stuck and he fell. His hands tried to use something as leverage, but instead he grabbed the plate with his half-eaten cheesecake and dragged it with him, slamming it onto his pants as well as dragging and dropping his hot coffee onto himself.

“Oh. Oops,” the waitress said unapologetically as she stared down at a struggling Jamison, food and coffee smeared all over him as it continued to burn him and hurt. The other patrons stared and laughedat the spectacle. Jamison felt his heart in his throat. He tried to get up, but slipped over himself once again, and everybody else laughed harder as the waitress just stared down at him with the carrying tray still in her hands.

“I tripped on your fake leg,” she pointed at Jamison’s peg leg. “You will have to pay for what you ruined.” 

“Are you kidding me? I-”

“Sir, you are making a scene, so I will ask for you to pay for what you ruined and get out.”

Everybody around him kept laughing and it echoed through his ears. His ears were ringing and he couldn’t even speak. 

“Jamie- are you okay?” Mako stood and helped him up. He must have been too shocked to react at first, but now he was instantly at his side, helping the young man stand up. “Are you-”

“Is the freak bothering you?” one of the patrons called out to Mako, a grown man who laughed at the incident. “You want us to teach him a lesson?”

Jamison was too out of it to even think about what was happening. Rage and despair overwhelmed him, but he only knew everybody was laughing. He knew it had been a terrible idea to go out in public. He knew it, and yet he did it. This had been a terrible idea. 

“I- I gotta-” He shoved Mako out of the way and started to walk away, limping from the burns in his body. “I have to- I have to-”

“You aren’t welcome here, freak! Go back to your robot family!”

Jamison covered his ears and he walked as fast as he could, still covered in food and shit. He heard Mako call behind him, but Jamison blocked it out and made his way home. He ignored the stares people gave him, the hushes, the way they spoke about him. He did not care; he only wanted to get out of there and into his house. This had been a terrible idea. 

He basically sprinted back to his house, almost tripping along the way. He didn’t care; as soon as he got there, he opened the door and slammed it, sliding down the wood and onto the floor, gasping and shaking. His legs and torso hurt, burnt from the coffee, everything from cakes to eggs smeared on him. Hot oil also had managed to get to him, he realized.

Jamison pressed his hands against his face, hissing and almost sobbing. He felt so small and pathetic, so stupid. He had been so stupid to think it would work out.

“Jamie,” a voice called from outside, knocking on the door softly. “Jamie, it’s me. Mako.”

Jamison just wanted to sob even harder. He felt so uncomfortable, he didn’t want Mako to see him. He looked so pathetic, he never wanted to see him again. He wanted to go away forever.

“Go away!” he hollered. “I don’t- fuck-”

“Jamie, I’m so sorry. I should have helped sooner, I was too much in shock, I didn’t, I should have listened to you. I’m sorry, this is my fault.”

Jamison gathered his knees and pressed his forehead into them, the metal part of his knee digging into his forehead. “It- it isn’t your fault. It’s…ya didn’t know.”

“Jamie, are you okay? It was boiling. Please, open the door. I want to help.”

A part of him told Jamison that Mako was right. He wanted to help; otherwise, Mako would have probably dumped more coffee on him, or laughed or beaten him up. A part of his brain told him to not trust him, and yet another told him that he would be ok. He trusted him; something about Mako just felt him feel at ease. 

He very slowly opened the door, feeling ashamed. He stared up at Mako, still covered in food.  
Mako looked at him with great concern, entering and closing the door behind him. 

“We need to get you out of these clothes. Come on,” He very slowly helped Jamison out of his ruined turtleneck. His torso was red and angry; hopefully it wouldn’t scar. That was the last thing he needed.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

“There is- ah, one in tha bathroom, I-” He attempted to get up but Mako just gently shoved him onto the couch. 

“Wait here, don’t get up. Get out of those clothes.”

Mako basically sprinted to the bathroom. Jamison’s clothes were uncomfortable, so he slipped out of his wet pants. His underwear had gotten cold as well, so he just chucked them off. Luckily, Jamison was a slob and had left some pajama pants lying on the floor nearby, so he picked them up and slid them on. 

Jamison gently touched his skin. It hurt, and he hissed. Mako quickly returned, carrying the bag of medical supplies Jamison always kept in the bathroom. He kneeled in front of Jamison and opened an ointment jar, thick fingers scooping some amount and rubbing it on Jamison’s wounds. The young man flinched, hissing as his fingers clutched at the couch below him.

“I’m sorry- it will hurt a little. But it shouldn’t scar.”

“That’s good.”

They both remained quiet as Mako traced over his stomach and prominent hip bones with the ointment. Jamison cheeks were getting red, skin twitching at the sensation. It hurt, but the feeling of those fingers on top of his skin was more powerful than the burning sensation. It felt like torture, the man’s thumb pads driving him crazy. He tried to not fidget but it was damn near impossible.

“...I left because of how they saw me.”

Jamison was slightly startled. He stared down at Mako, who kept scooping ointment and very gently rubbing it in circles on Jamison’s skin.

“They whispered behind my back. Told stories about me, the bad kind. They saw me as this horrid monster. They never said it to my face; they were afraid I would kill them if they did. That’s…why I left. I was an outcast.”

Jamison was speechless, but it wasn’t that hard to believe. Mako was _big_ , an intimidating man. But to tell rumors about him? Spread lies behind his back? It seemed they had far more in common. 

“Ya shouldn’t have associated with me. Now they’ll think you’re a freak, too.”

“I don’t care what they think of me, not anymore.” His fingers just kept going slower and slower. Mako’s cheeks were red. Jamison felt his body heat up, his heart beating hard against his chest. His fingers were shaking as Mako very slowly rose to Jamison’s eye level. “Not when I’m with you.”

Jamison opened his legs wide to make room for Mako’s huge gut and they stared at each other for several seconds, their faces inching closer together, nervous.

Mako’s hand cradled Jamison’s back, fingers caressing his spine and sending shivers down his body. His lips twitched as Mako’s thick ones got closer to his, and they both closed their eyes as their lips finally met.

Mako lips were awfully soft, very gently kissing him. Jamison let him lead, his hands touching Mako’s soft chest as the big palms caressed his back up and down until they came to rest behind his head and very gently petted his hair. Jamison wrapped his arms around Mako’s neck, the bigger man tilting Jamison’s head back to take the lead even more. 

They kept the kiss going until Jamison’s head started to feel fuzzy. They needed air, and Mako separated for a second, only for Jamison to mouth at his neck, needy and starving for affection. Mako cradled him, placing kisses along his jaw, up his earlobe and down his neck, lips tickling at his collarbone. 

“You dont-” Jamison gasped at Mako’s soft kisses, his mind drowning. “You don’t mind me? Being the freak? The outcast?”

He whispered in Jamison’s ear, hot and warm. It made shivers go down his spine and his stomach go warm, sensations pooling in his groin. 

“Let’s be outcasts together.”

He let out a needy whine, pressing his face against Mako’s shoulder, hands grabbing at anything he could reach. Mako let him, touching him as well, fingers brushing against his nipple and drawing a gasp from Jamison. 

“Do you want to…?” Mako didn’t finish the sentence, but Jamison knew very well what he meant.

He did. He really did. He wanted Mako all inside him, all over him. He wanted to be inside of Mako as well, wanted them both to be inside of each other and just be together. He nodded, panting a yes. Mako helped him stand up, propping him up and still kissing as they got to his bedroom. Luckily for them, Jamison’s bed was clear of trash and tools, letting them get directly on top of it. 

Mako was on top of him, kissing him deeply. One hand very gently grabbed his leg and propped it up as he placed himself between Jamison’s legs and kissed, one hand caressing his leg and the other his chest. Jamison’s arms were holding Mako’s thick neck. 

He gently took his pants off, Jamison’s semi-erect dick slipping into the air. His fingers brushed against it and Jamison let out a moan of his own. 

“Mako,” he sighed while the bigger man kept planting kisses on his lithe body. “Mako, Mako I don’t- I don’t know how to… I’ve never-”

It was no surprise that Jamison was a virgin. He was, after all, the outcast, the town freak; who would want to fuck him? No one, for sure. He was a weirdo. The only sexual experience he had was with his hand.

He felt embarrassed by it, but he figured he should tell Mako if they were going to do anything. He was going to greatly disappoint him one way or another. 

“It’s okay, I’ll do it. I’ll help you.” He planted a kiss on his lips once again. “Do you have lube?”

Jamison pointed to the nightstand. Mako stood up, taking off his clothes on the way to the drawer. Jamison was panting hard, cheeks red as he gulped. He was so anxious, but he wanted this. He wanted this so bad.

He turned his head to see Mako fully naked. Jamison let out a soft surprised gasp at the man’s beauty. He was so gorgeous from head to toe. He didn’t even look at his dick at first, simply focusing on the man himself. He pulled him down into a kiss, this time as the lead. His tongue ventured into Mako’s mouth and he pulled the big man close as they grinded.

He once again placed himself on top of Jamison, broke off the kiss to open the lube vial and coati his fingers on it before reaching behind to start breaching himself open. 

“You have to open me first. I’ll do it now, but…” He grabbed Jamison’s flesh hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips and kissing his knuckles. “…I want your fingers inside me.”

Jamison replied with a moan and stared at Mako’s face as he opened himself. The way his brows furrowed, the way his lips twitched and the little moans that escaped his mouth made Jamison ache for him. He gripped at him, at his sides, at his thighs, at his gut; anything he could reach he caressed with love.

Mako poured more lube on the fingers he used to open himself up, coating Jamison’s dick with it. He hissed a little due to the cold thickness of the lube, but Mako continued to stroke him, moving his knee on top of him and touching Jamison’s erection with his asked.

“Can I…?” Mako asked, panting. Jamison couldn’t believe he had to ask, and he nodded vigorously, otherwise he would have shouted that, yes, he was ready.

Mako lifted himself up a little, one hand behind him steadying Jamison’s erection as he sat on it, and the tip breached him a little. They both moaned loudly, Jamison digging his head into the mattress below him and panting loudly. His glasses were starting to get foggy, sweat rolling down his forehead. Mako very slowly impaled himself on Jamison’s cock, both of them moaning and gasping, until he was flush with Jamison’s pelvis. 

“You okay?” Mako panted, leaning down to kiss Jamison on the cheek. 

“I-I’m fine, darlin’,” he smiled cockily. “You doin’ fine?”

“Doing great.”

They both kissed again on the mouth as Mako very slowly lifted himself up and down Jamison’s shaft. It was incredibly slow, but Jamison was so glad for it; he was so overwhelmed that if Mako would have gone faster, he would have cummed right there and then.

Even so, he knew he wouldn’t last long. This was the first time he had had sex and Mako was the most stunning person in the world, so gorgeous and so amazing, and he was having sex with _him_. 

“I- I’m not- fuck,” He dragged himself up, wrapping himself around Mako and just holding him close, breathing his sweat. “Fuck, I’m- I’m not gonna last, I-”

“It’s okay,” Mako buried his nose in Jamison’s hair, holding him close. “That’s okay.”

That much physical contact and Mako’s words drowned Jamison’s mind. In his head there was nothing but pleasure, his nerves sensitive and on the verge of exploding. He let out a silent scream, clutching at Mako as he came inside of him. He saw stars, the orgasm hitting him hard and leaving him breathless. He felt like he was going to die but it was amazing.

Mako slipped out of him, leaving Jamison’s dick wet and exposed and cold in the air. Mako sat on top of him, jerking himself off until he came. Cum spilled on his hand and onto Jamison.  
Jamison was so overwhelmed that his nerves were on fire. His body felt like jelly as Mako climbed off him. He reached over to the nightstand to get the napkins Jamison kept there and used them to clean both of themselves up.

“I-” Jamison still felt like he would melt and he didn’t really have many words to say. He instead pulled Mako to him, kissing him deeply, wordlessly. Mako pulled him close too, wrapping himself around Jamison’s lithe body.

“Thank you,” Jamison whispered, smiling. Mako petted his hair, thanking him as well.

 

When Jamison woke up, it was the middle of the night. The moon shone through the window and onto the bed. He limbs felt sore; he hadn’t taken off his prosthetics before falling asleep.   
He turned around to see Mako asleep at his side. He took off his blanket to put away the prosthetics and gently placed them on the floor, his stumps sore and red. 

One giant hand wrapped around his waist, dragging him close. “You okay?”

“Yeah, no biggie.” He slipped under the sheets once again, Mako’s hand still on top of him.   
Jamison stared up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath as his one hand slowly caressed the calloused knuckles. He couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe being an outcast wasn’t so bad with Mako at his side.

\---

If Jamison was to make a list of the things he loved about Mako, that list would never end.  
He loved the way his fingers twitched when he slept. He loved the way his lips felt on his skin. His thick jaw, his gorgeous eyebrows.

But he also loved the way Mako laughed, the booming laugh he would occasionally spill. The way he taught Jamison how to cook. The way he spoke of Jamison as he whispered why he loved him. The little things he did for him, like buying groceries for Jamison so he wouldn’t have to venture out of his house. The cakes Mako baked for him. The way he observed his work, prepared tea or coffee for him while kissing him on the neck. 

Jamison adored the way his eyes stared at him under the moonlight. The way Mako smiled softly, dragging him close to him to kiss him, touch him, make Jamison feel loved. Jamison adored the way Mako made him feel whole, like a better man.

He loved the way Mako would whisper that he loved him and how he would say how he loved him back. Loved the days they would spend on the bed, sleeping the day away in each other’s arms. 

One morning, Jamison woke to see Mako staring at him, petting his hair gently. He smiled at him softly, his flesh hand caressing his cheek. 

“Mornin’, love.” Mako smiled and it made his heart warm. Mako already had his knight armor on, ready to leave to work at the castle. Jamison wished he wouldn’t go, holding his armored hand. “Come on, stay.”

“I can’t, Jamie. I’ve already missed enough days.”

“Come on, ya should quit. We can live in me house. The Lord pays me enough for us both to live ‘ere! Even if I only make toys for ‘im.”

“I actually was thinking of quitting.” 

This jolted Jamison awake, and he retrieved his glasses and put them on. “Ya are?”

“I already left a town like this. I can leave again.”

Jamison felt his stomach drop at this, but Mako quickly realized he fucked up with his wording and corrected himself. “We can leave, together.”

Jamison blinked. “But where are we gonna go?”

“Somewhere else. Far from here. I can open a bread store, sell cakes and desserts while you work on your creations.” Mako smiled; he had really put thought into that. “Start from zero.”

Jamison smiled wide, basically launching himself to wrap his arms around Mako’s neck and kissing him in the lips. “Lets do that! Lets get outta this dump! I’ll start packin’, and-”

“Hold on, I have to quit my job first.” Mako chuckled. “I have a particular place in mind; I heard it was peaceful and nice. I’ll quit today, then you can quit and we can get out of here. We have enough money to scram.”

Jamison was full of joy. This was the best day of his life and he couldn’t wait to start a new life with Mako. 

“Why don’t you just not show up? That’s the same as quittin’, sorta.”

“As much as I hate these people, it is not a good idea to let them have a sour memory of me.”

Jamison hated to admit it, but Mako was right. “Well, guess I will see ya tonight after work! After ya quit!”

They both kissed, deeply. Jamison traced his jaw with his fingers, making small noises as Mako kissed him back. Unfortunately, all things must end, and Mako had to leave. They kissed just one more time, a peck before Mako bade him goodbye and left.

Jamison sighed, getting up from his bed and putting his prosthetics once again. He did his normal routine, making a small breakfast for himself. He decided to take it easy that day, plopping himself on the couch and reading a biology book. 

The morning hours passed quickly as he read his book. The morning turned into afternoon, and the afternoon into night. A hole started to eat away at Jamison’s stomach as he suddenly felt something was wrong. He bit his lip, putting his book down. It was late. Mako should have been home already.

Something was very, very wrong. 

He had to go to the castle.

Jamison stood up and basically raced to the door, something inside of his belly burning as he ran as fast as he could towards the castle.

\---

There had been an accident. 

A group of knights had been crossing the bridge that went oven the moat when the old wooden bridge collapsed and sent them falling into the water. Their heavy armor hadn’t let them get out, and many of the knights were dead by the time they had were dragged out.

Mako was heavy, and big.  
He sank into the water, they said.  
Sank, and sank.

They pulled him out but it was no use.

Jamison stood at the edge of the commotion, staring at the drowned armored bodies. He could tell which one of them was Mako. Big. Tall. Heavy. The heaviest of them all. The tallest, the strongest, the fattest. His armor was heavier than everybody else’s; made sense, since he was a big bloke. It dripped water onto the grass below him as the medics assessed the corpses.  
He could see the water pooling out of his mouth and nose, brown skin pale and wet.

Jamison screamed bloody, throat hoarse as he tried to make his way but they didn’t let him. They shoved him back, screamed at him, told him to fuck off. He fought them, he had to get there. Had to be next to Mako. The other bodies’ wives were there, why wouldn’t they let him be there for him? Why didn’t they let him be at his side? Why could they, but he couldn’t?

Someone punched him in the head and he fell limp to the ground. When he came to, he had been dragged away into the woods, and when he returned there was nothing there anymore but the wet spot Mako left behind.

They did not let him attend the funeral.

He had to stand outside. They didn’t let him in. He was the freak, the outcast, the weird toymaker; what business did he have there? They didn’t let him see how they brought the casket down into the earth. They didn’t let him see how they poured dirt onto the casket. They didn’t let him bid him goodbye, see him, they didn’t let him approach. The last memory he had of Mako was his bloated body next to the water, puking water. 

When the funeral ended he was shooed away. They didn’t even let him see the grave.

Jamison hung outside the cemetery all night until a guard told him off.

His feet dragged him around. He walked in circles in the forest, bumping into trees and their branches. He would fall to the ground and lay there for several minutes before standing up and walking through the woods again. 

Days passed without him eating or drinking anything. His glasses were scratched and broken and his hair had been pulled by his own hands. His body hurt. His mind hurt; he couldn't think of anything. The image of Mako was still in his mind, present, printed into his eyelids. He saw it every time he closed his eyes. 

Somehow, after days, he arrived home. He had actually left his door open but he didn’t care. He stepped inside, limbs numb, air and leaves having entered along with bugs and squirrels. 

He closed the door behind him, falling forward and just able to catch himself with his hands. He puked. He puked until nothing but saliva and gastric juices came out. He curled up next to the door and passed out. 

 

When he came to, he puked again. He stood, stumbling forward as he made his way through the house. He didn’t know where he was going. His feet kept dragging him to his bedroom, his bed still unmade, the dip on the mattress where Mako laid still present. On the floor there was a shirt that belonged to him. Jamison picked it up and brought it to bed. 

He smelled it.

Jamison started sobbing loudly, crying out, clutching the cloth near him. He sobbed, wailed, cried like he had never cried before, all his anguish spilling out. He sobbed into the shirt, holding it close, snot and tears getting all over it. 

Mako was gone. 

\---

Not much time passed before Lord Reinhardt started sending Jamison more requests. He had finished and delivered his toys for his family, so the Lord had left him alone for a while after that, but now he started with his requests for more useless creations. 

They knocked on his door but he never answered. They slid the papers with their requests under it and decided that was enough. They knocked, every day, but Jamison never even read through them. He just stared at the piles of requests as he dragged his feet through his house.

He had lost about ten pounds. Jamison had been skinny already, but his bones stuck to his skin, malnourished and sick. He hadn’t left his house ever since Mako died; there was no point anymore. He looked like a dead man walking, his broken glasses pushed up to the ridge of his nose.

One day his door was being knocked on rather forcefully. Jamison ignored it as well, but the person just wouldn’t go away, going as far as attempting to rip the door off its hinges as the individual screamed to be let in.

Jamison sighed, opening the door to whomever was so interested in talking with him. He looked like a mess, wearing dirty messy clothes he hadn’t washed in a long time. 

A knight stood outside of his door, but it was not Mako (it would never be Mako, never again). He was big and looked angry.

“Jamison Junkenstein, The Lord has requested an audience with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jamison sighed, about to close the door. “Tell me when to go-”

“ _Now_ ,” the knight hissed as he grabbed Jamison’s skinny arm and dragged him outside. At least he had the decency to close the door as he basically dragged the doctor through the road.

The Knight was speaking to him, probably cursing him out for making them wait for so long, but Jamison blocked it, his head buzzing as his arm hurt from being gripped so hard. He kept tripping and stumbling but the Knight kept dragging him, feet making marks on the dirt beneath them as he dragged like prey. 

It took them a while to get to the castle, and Jamison was shoved inside the throne room. Lord Reinhardt was there, already sitting on his throne and with his arms crossed. 

“Junkenstein, good morning. Kind of you to join us.”

“I was dragged here.”

“Well, unfortunately, we were forced to. After all, it seems you have been ignoring the messages I’ve sent you. Is there a reason you haven’t paid attention to my orders, to your Lord’s orders, Junkenstein?”

Because he felt a hole in his stomach whenever he woke up. Because he felt like his bones had all broken, his breath had been taken, heart aching every day. His mind drowned and yelled.

Because he wanted to lay in a hole and die. 

But he just shrugged instead. 

“I haven’t been feelin’ well, my Lord.”

“That is unfortunate; hopefully now you will feel better, good enough to actually obey the commands I give you.”

“Yes, my lord. My apologies, I- what is it that you need?” He was far more polite than normal, but he felt like he wasn’t actually there. He felt like he was somewhere else, watching himself talk to the Lord. 

“Your toys were very well received by my family. I need you to make more for my grandchildren.”

Jamison felt insulted; he had been dragged like an animal just to make more goddamn fucking toys. But he was too weak to even feel offended. He nodded slowly.

“Good, young man. I hope you do not slack off on your responsibilities. Now, you can leave.”

Without saying another word, Jamison left. The knights stared at him as he made his way out of the castle and then towards home. He retrieved the stacks of papers on the floor, sorting them and pinning them above his workdesk. Requests, specifications along with information about the Lord’s grandchildren. 

His mind was on autopilot as he started to sketch. His eyes were unfocused, hands scribbling without paying attention. After a few minutes, Jamison’s eyes widened as he realized what he was doing.

He had been absentmindedly drawing Mako.

Jamison felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t stop, drawing him more and more. His broad nose. Thick lips. Small eyes. Powerful jaw. His silky hair. His thick neck. He drew him a soft line to represent the soft way he smiled. 

He finished his drawing and grabbed another paper. He drew him again, this time sitting down in casual clothes instead of his armor. In the drawing he was looking into the distance at something, smiling as well.

He drew him naked on the bed, asleep and content, safe and placid, silky hair loose and sticking to his face. 

Jamison drew him several ways, all angles. He didn’t realize the moment he started to cry, grabbing the drawings and dragging them to his chest as he sobbed, his forehead pressed against his work desk, wailing, crying until there were no more tears to drop.

\---

His wall was covered in drawings of Mako he made. Every corner was covered with them. He continued to work, but Mako looked down at him, watching every movement, watching every single thing. 

He tried to work, but every time he did something he would have the Lord’s men at his back, demanding more changes, demanding more details and ridiculous things. Exhausted, Jamison went to make some tea, opening the cabinet with his jars and picking up the one with apple cinnamon tea without even thinking much about it. It was light, far lighter than normal. When he paid attention, he realized it was empty.

That was Mako’s favorite flavor.

He grabbed the jar so hard it cracked in his hands, cutting his flesh hand and making deep gashes. He bled on the floor, hissing and crying.

 

“Mako?”

Nothing but silence. Jamison was curled up on his bed, holding one of Mako’s shirts, breathing his scent. He was crying, tears falling onto his pillow as he choked up. His room was dark, papers and clothes sprawled around it and pieces of metal littering the floor. Jamison didn’t blink, eyes wide open as he rubbed circles with his fingers on the fabric of the cloth. 

“I miss you.”

His mouth was wide open, sobs escaping from his throat. He clenched his eyes shut as he cradled the clothes closer to him, smearing them with his tears. He wrapped the sleeves around his back, as if Mako was there holding him close, hugging him, keeping him near. 

“I miss you so much.”

He rolled on the clothes, getting tangled in them. He remembered a time when Mako would hold him, kiss him, tell him he loved him so much. Jamison would reply, would tell him he would do anything to keep Mako close, anything to keep him near. That he would die for him. That he would be there for him forever.

“I love you.”

He gave soft kisses to the fabric, crying. His body was tense as he wailed, head hurting. He felt like his brain was scrambled, made into slush. He wanted to bleed out there, wanted to choke to death, wanted to die and die and die and _die_ until there was nothing more left of him. Until there was nothing left of Jamison Junkenstein to pick apart and destroy, until he was nothing but bare bones. He wanted to die. He wished he could just die.

“I love you so much.”

He fell into a slumber, still wrapped in Mako’s scent. It wasn’t until he was out of tears that he slept, cheeks wet.

 

He had a dream.  
His robots were with him. He had built them, had changed them. They had the wings of angels, soft faces that resemble those of humans. They were kind and beautiful and they helped him.   
Mako was there. He had been stitched up, had been healed. Was brought back to life by those robots, by Jamison’s machines that he had built himself. They brought him back to him. He brought him back to him. 

For the first time in months, Jamison was happy.

 

When he woke, he was still wrapped in Mako’s clothes.   
He basically fell off the bed, dashing. The dream was fresh in his mind, lingering, the machines he built were still in his memory. 

His heart raced as he started to doodle the needed components, listing the things he had to get, that he had to build. He was manic, brain jumping to several places at once. He couldn’t focus on what he was actually doing, just his goal. Mako. Bringing Mako back. Bringing Mako back to him. Saving Mako. Saving him from the moat, from the water, dragging him back to him, where he belonged, at Jamison’s side. Where he belonged, on Jamison’s bed. Where he belonged, his lips caressing his skin. Where he belonged.

Alive.

\---

He had finished the Lord’s new toys, which gave him enough money and time to work on what he truly wanted. 

He built the necessary machines. He even went to the roof and built his own coils on top of it to gather the much-needed electricity. He built what he needed, what he knew he had to have to bring a corpse back to life. 

Jamison at first tried it with small animals. Rats, cats, dogs. Made sure he could bring them back and it worked. It worked for them, the dogs barking and wagging their tails as if they had never died.

But a human body was very different from a dog’s. But there was no more time to think, to hesitate. He needed to start the real test soon. He needed to…he just had to…  
He needed to get Mako back.

He had to steal his corpse.

It didn’t hit him until the moment he was in the graveyard, his shovel in hand. He had drugged the men keeping watch, so he had all the time on the world. It wasn’t until he started to dig, until he hit the casket and pulled it out with the help of his robots, that he realized what he was truly doing.

He didn’t even dare open it. Not yet. He had his automatons fill the grave again and no one would be the wiser. With the help of his robots. he dragged the heavy casket back home.   
Sweat rolled down his back as they finally made it. They placed the casket on the floor as Jamison rushed for the needed chemicals to preserve the body, keep it from rotting further. His heart beat hard on his throat, gathering the needed things.

The last time he had seen Mako his face was gentle, kissing him softly, promising to get out of there and be happy somewhere else.

He opened the casket.

He fell to his knees as he vomited. It hit him like a brick, everything, all of it hit him, struck him, dug deep in his bones, gutted him like a fish and he was gasping for air. His eyes watered, sobbing, crying out. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the guts. The moment he saw Mako’s dead face he became a dead man, curling on the floor, gutted, nothing left inside.

He told his robots what to do with the body. To drug it, to pump it with the medicines needed, to clean it and to stitch it. To make sure he was biologically possible, to please, please, to please touch him gently, to please handle Mako with care, to use their fingers with love, to treat him with care as if he was just sleeping. To please, please. Please, be kind and gentle to him. 

They followed his orders. That was what they did. They promised as much as a machine could promise to be gentle as Jamison crawled out of the room, sobbing and crying, a husk of a person, a husk of what Mako loved.

He didn’t dare venture inside his workshop until his automatons had finished their task. They had prepared him, prepared the body for Jamison to just work on him, to try to bring him back.   
Even so, it was a disturbing sight. His boyfriend, his dear Mako strapped on a metal slab. His face had been covered with that of a pig. Jamison asked them to do that- Mako had always loved pigs, and his face was…

….Mako had always loved pigs. He was stitched and green, smelling of chemicals. Jamison cried at the sight, getting there and kissing his boyfriend’s gut. It was cold and clammy, but he didn’t care. It was Mako. It was his boyfriend, Mako, and he was going to make it right. 

He strapped his boyfriend, mind racing. He had everything needed; enough electricity to bring him back, enough chemicals to keep his body alive. He had everything for him, to keep him alive.

But it did not work.

Even if he screamed to the heavens it did not work. Even if he begged someone, _anyone_ , it did not work. Even if he pounded on the floor, hollering, cursing himself and his hands and his shitty mind, it did not work.

 

She had come to him like an angel, like a goddess. Promising Jamison everything he wanted.

The witch. He had heard stories about her. He knew, he had been told to be careful with the people that offer you more than life itself, to be careful because they will show their fangs like venomous snakes. And yet he did not hesitate. Not even when she told him there would be a price. Not even when she said that he was now under her command. Nothing could have stopped Jamison from taking the gift of life and using it to bring Mako, his Mako back to him. Nothing she could have said would have stopped him. No matter what, one minute with him was worth an eternity of suffering. 

 

And it worked.  
It made his body rise. It made him twitch, take a breath. It made Mako wake up from his death, grunting and groaning, lifting his own body off the slab.  
He was bigger, bloated. His skin had kept that green tint. His voice was hoarse, deep, even deeper than what Jamison remembered. 

His breath hitched as he saw Mako alive, gasping for air, clutching at his throat as if he had just remembered how he died. He touched his face, confused, and Jamison chuckled as he got a mirror and gave it to Mako.

He stared at himself for a long time, touching his pig face and looking at what he was now. Jamison was crying tears of happiness, resisting the urge to go and touch him, hold him, kiss him and tell him just oh how much he had missed him.

“Hello,” He said, staring at Mako. The man placed the mirror on the ground and looked down at Jamison ragged, exhausted, malnourished. Jamison smiled, heart swelling content. “Hi, Mako.”

“Jamie,” he said with a hoarse voice. He stared at him with those small black bead eyes, chest rising up and down. Jamison just stood there, small, vulnerable, his frame shaking like a leaf.

“Hey,” Jamison stumbled out, flustered, face red.

“What have you _done_ to me?”

 

Something no one ever told Jamison was that sometimes things should be kept dead.  
The circle of life is something that is taught by everyone, but not every person has the means to break it, to bring something back, something that should be dead. It’s cruel. It’s unfair. But that’s what life is. To break it, to pervert it is something no one had ever done before. Something only Jamison had done. Something he had to deal with now.

Because maybe it was selfish, what he did. Because maybe Mako should have stayed dead. Because maybe digging his corpse, stuffing it with chemicals and mutating it to the verge of it being unrecognizable was morbid and fucked up. Because he had taken Mako without his consent, had altered him, had stitched him up like meat only for himself, because Jamison was lonely, because Jamison wanted him back, because Jamison couldn’t let go of who Mako was. 

Because maybe some things shouldn’t be disturbed.

Mako looked at himself as a monster. He stared at his body, at what he had become. A mockery of a person, a hybrid of a monster. A corpse. Something that should not exist. Something so perverted and morbid and disgusting. Because instead of being happy that he saw Jamison again he just stared at himself, incredulous, sickened, shaken to his core because he was dead and suddenly he was not. Because he still felt water in his lungs, still felt the water around him and yet he was there, not dead but not alive.

“Mako, I-”

“What did you do?” he asked. “What did you do?!”

“Mako. I wanted-I couldn’t-I had to help. I had to bring you back. I-I-I love you, and I had to bring you back. I just-I needed to! It was not fair, what happened to you! I had to-”

“You turned me into one of your experiments. You turned me into-”

“No, Mako! No! You didn’t deserve what happened. You didn’t deserve it! I had to make it right. I made it right for you! I brought you back!”

“I don’t- I don’t want this. I didn’t want this. What have you done?!”

“You-” Jamison choked up. “You’d rather be dead?”

“I don’t want to die-but I don’t want to be alive-not like this. I-I don’t-”

But it had been done. No matter what it had been done and they just stared at each other, worlds apart. Jamison felt his entire world shatter, stomach dropping. He had fucked up.

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This is-this is something else. This is beyond, Jamison. You shouldn’t have done this.”

“I’m so sorry, Mako. I-I was so lonely. I wanted to…I’m so sorry.”

There was nothing else to say. Mako said nothing. He just stared at himself, touching his features with fear and anxiety. Jamison didn’t say a thing as he observed, stomach tearing up, his guts stirring. 

“I will kill them,” he said after a long time. Jamison didn’t respond, staring at him with a confused expression. “I will kill them all.”

“Who?” He didn’t dare move.

“They hurt you. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You couldn’t ask for help, which is why you did… this.” Mako swallowed. “I will kill them.”

Jamison couldn’t get a word out before Mako burst out of the room and into the night. Jamison stood in his spot, sobbing, fists clenched, realizing the gravity of what he had done. 

 

\---

 

Mako slowly picked apart those that had hurt Jamison. He killed them all, leaving no traces of them. But even so, Mako wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t look at him or touch him. He only slept and killed. 

The Witch came to him. She told him that they needed to kill Lord Reinhardt. Jamison didn’t protest; he hated the man and wanted him dead more than anything. It wasn’t like he had much of an option anyways. 

“Mako.” He spoke to him, softly, just before they stormed into the castle to kill the lord. He touched his fat fingers with his flesh ones, the cold skin making his warm digits cool off. Mako didn’t say a thing. “Mako, I’m so sorry.”

The beast wrapped his palm around Jamison’s head, pressing him against his bare chest. Jamison wailed, cried loudly, kissing the cold clammy skin. He tasted of chemicals, unlike the warm hairs that were on his chest while he was alive. He had no heartbeat even though he was alive. He was a mockery of a man. 

“I missed you too.” 

He leaned down to kiss Jamison. He lifted the pig mask, his rotten face uncovered. His lips were still soft; no matter how much time had passed it felt the same as when he was alive. His warm fingers caressed Jamison’s hair, wiping the tears off his face. 

It was time to storm the castle. 

\---

His calculations had been wrong. His plans had failed. The Lord had seen this coming and had hired outsiders to protect himself. It had been a shitshow.

Arrows protruded from his body, as well as Mako’s. He was bleeding, but he crawled towards Mako, his boyfriend, his lover, the love of his life. 

He had done this. Had he learned how to cope, they wouldn’t have bene in this situation. Mako was going to die again in agony and it was Jamison’s fault.   
They had failed. 

He curled up against Mako’s gut, hand wrapping around his neck, and kissed his flesh. 

“I’m so sorry.”

Mako twitched, bringing him closer, having him curl further as they both bleed out on the ground. He kissed Jamison as they both started to lose their breath, thick arms wrapping around him like when he was alive. 

“I’m so sorry you will die again.”

“It is okay,” he whispered against Jamison ear. “I’m with you. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Jamison could die again and again. He could be used as a puppet for the witch to do what she wanted. He could rise only to be killed again and he would gladly do so. He held onto Mako as everything went cold and dark, holding him forever until nothing else remained of them. 

Because for Mako, Jamison would gladly die again and again and again and again, until there was nothing left for him to love, until they were nothing but dust, because Jamison would gladly give his life away until there was nothing else to give.

And nothing else to love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it!!!  
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> 
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